


Moving to Truth

by Axis2ClusterB



Series: Anywhere But Here [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axis2ClusterB/pseuds/Axis2ClusterB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius wants to help Remus, and is oblivious to the fact that he's really kinda like a bull in a china shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving to Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Marauders fic.

“I’ve figured it out.”

 

Sirius groans, shoving back his blanket just enough to glare at the intruder – James – who’s currently kneeling on his bed.

 

And bouncing.

 

Bouncing at, well, Sirius isn’t sure just what time it is, but it’s a Saturday morning, and he’s not awake, which automatically makes it too bloody early for this shite. He groans again, hauling the blankets back over his head. “Don’t you have a Quidditch practice to get to? Broomstick to fall from? And could you do me a favor and land on your head while you’re at it?”

 

The bed shifts as James leans in closer, whispers one word very deliberately near the bit of blanket covering Sirius’s ear. “Remus.”

 

The blanket is pushed back again, Sirius sitting up and rubbing at his face. “Okay, ‘m up. What’ve you got?”

 

James rolls his eyes. “I knew that’d get you moving.”

 

“Stuff it and talk,” Sirius says, rubbing his hands over his face again and trying for something like alertness.

 

“We’ve been going about this all wrong,” James says, reaching down and fumbling with something beside the bed. “I think – damn, this is heavy – that this is the area we should be in.”

“Where did you get this?” Sirius murmurs almost reverentially, his fingers brushing lightly over the faded leather cover of the huge and ancient book James has hauled up onto the bed.

 

“Couldn’t sleep last night, so I took the cloak and paid a little visit to the library. This was in the restricted section.”

 

“You were supposed to do that tonight, and take me with you,” Sirius snaps.

 

“Like I said, couldn’t sleep,” James says shortly. “And I *tried* to wake you, but all the reaction I got was you trying to curse me, and without your wand, no less. You stayed up too late with Eleanor Mulaney. So, what *did* the two of you talk about in the Astronomy Tower until one-thirty in the morning?” James asks, a malicious glint to his eyes.

 

“Eleanor Mulaney,” Sirius snorts, rolling his eyes. “If I actually had to talk to her, I think I’d Avada Kedavra myself and be done with it.”

 

“Good thing she doesn’t require much in the way of conversation, then,” James says wryly. “I don’t understand how you spend so much time with her if you don’t fancy her, though.”

 

“You know who I fancy,” Sirius says, his voice quiet as his fingers begin to work along the edge of his blanket.

 

“So why not just tell him?” James asks, hands covering Sirius’s, stopping the nervous motion there.

 

“Because I’m not ready to say it and he’s not ready to hear it, and you *know* all of this, James. Did you wake me up just to go over all of this again?”

 

James studies him for a minute, then sighs and opens the book. “This,” he says, and Sirius jostles closer.

 

Then there’s just dead silence, and James keeps his eyes glued to Sirius’s face, watching as the other boy’s features go still, blue eyes glittering. “Animagi,” Sirius finally breathes, and James sees that his fingers are shaking just a little as they reach for the yellowed page, tracing along the illustrations of people transforming into animals. “Make it look bloody painful, don’t they?”

 

“Well, it’s not something that they want every fourteen year old wizard and his dog trying, now is it?” James asks, and Sirius looks up at him, takes in the fear and determination there, feels the slow grin start to spread across his own face.

 

“So we’re doing this? Really doing it?” he asks, and James nods, his own grin beginning to peek out around his eyes.

 

“Remus won’t let us try anything with just protection spells in place, no matter how strong they are. We’ve spent the better part of two years looking for something else, and this… I think this is it.” James taps the book, the grin finally spreading to his mouth, lighting his face. “All we have to do is transform into animals that are large enough to keep a werewolf in check, and he won’t have to go through it alone anymore.”

 

“Pack,” Sirius murmurs, and James looks up at him sharply.

 

“Why’d you say that?”

 

Sirius sighs, dragging his hands impatiently through the long tangle of his hair. “Wolves travel in packs, yeah? We’ll give Remus one, and maybe he won’t have to hurt himself so much. Bloody hate seeing him come back so knackered.”

 

James glances at Remus’s empty bed and sighs. “Yeah, and that’s after a day in the infirmary to recover.” Then, “Sirius? Sirius, you have that look on your face. What?”

 

“Don’t you think he’d recover better in his own bed, in his own room?” Sirius asks, throwing his blankets back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He’s already reaching for his jeans, and James groans. Sirius-with-a-purpose is always a little bit frightening.

 

“Probably, now what are you doing?”

 

“Going to get him,” Sirius says, tugging a thin t-shirt over his head, then reaching for a sweater. “Bring him back here, so we can take care of him.”

 

“Do you really think that’s the best thing?” James asks. “I mean, we’ve never seen him just after… you know. The full moon. Do you think first thing in the morning is the best time to go to him?”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sirius asks, and he’s already halfway out the door when James catches his arm.

 

“Look, I’m just saying, put yourself in his place. What if… what if it’s not something that he just wants you to… barge in on? Y’know? What if he’s not ready for us to see that?”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes, pulling his elbow from James’s grip. “You worry too damn much, James! Just trust me, he’ll be glad to see me.”

 

“Sirius—“ but he’s already gone, and there’s nothing for James to do for it now but clear out himself, leave Remus with some bit of privacy.

 

*

 

Sirius stops dead in the infirmary doorway, and whatever he thought he was expecting, it wasn’t this. It wasn’t Remus in a small, huddled mass under a utilitarian-looking blanket. It wasn’t the delicate skin around his eyes stained nearly black with exhaustion, and it wasn’t the thin shudders that he can still see running under Remus’s skin, as though muscles are still adjusting to their new covering. He has just a moment to wonder if James wasn’t right, if maybe springing himself on Remus unexpectedly at this particular moment in time wasn’t such a good idea.

 

If maybe it isn’t, in fact, thoughtless, and rude, and possibly a little bit unthinkingly cruel. In short, completely Sirius. He sighs, turns to go, and that’s just when he hears the soft sound from the bed, lets it stop him mid-retreat.

 

“It’s okay,” Remus murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. “You don’t have to stay, Sirius. I won’t be much company now, anyway.”

 

“I’m not here for you to keep me company, I’m here to keep you company,” Sirius says, and Remus shakes his head.

 

“It should probably worry me that I understood that perfectly.”

 

Sirius laughs, coming into the room to settle on the edge of Remus’s bed. “Chocolate Frog?”

 

Remus smiles. It’s weary, makes him look far too old for his age, and it still manages to light Sirius from the inside out because there’s something else there, just behind the exhaustion, something warm. “You don’t have any Chocolate Frogs, Sirius.”

 

“And how would you know? You’ve barely opened your eyes since I got here.”

 

“Because you’re not wearing robes, and you’re not holding a bag. Nowhere else to put them.” Remus is watching him now, still burrowed down in the blankets, but his eyes have taken on a spark of interest now, have lost that blank flatness that hurt Sirius’s heart.

 

“I could have ‘em in my jeans pocket,” Sirius teases, and Remus laughs, shifting so that he’s a little more uncurled.

 

“Too tight.”

 

“Well, you’re right,” Sirius says, standing again. “I do have Chocolate Frogs back in the dorm, though. So why don’t you come with me, and today you can do your resting in your own bed, instead of hiding out in the infirmary like you’re sick?”

 

The laughter slowly fades from Remus’s eyes, replaced by something else, something watchful and still that Sirius can’t quite read, but it makes him nervous, makes him want to shuffle his feet and stare at his hands. He won’t let himself, though, makes himself hold Remus’s eyes, and that’s when he realizes that they’re different, less brown and more amber today, almost luminous. For all that he knows that Remus is a werewolf, this makes it somehow different, makes it *real,* seeing a glimpse of the wolf in the boy and he won’t let himself look away because he knows that if he does, he’ll never be given the chance to see again.

 

“What if I say I *am* sick?” Remus says carefully, and this is something Sirius can do, can give him some of the normalcy that he saw Remus crave, even before he understood why.

 

“I’d call you a git,” Sirius says, and something around Remus’s eyes relaxes, his mouth losing some of the almost imperceptible tightness that pinched the corners of it.

 

“My robes are on the chair over there,” Remus finally says, and Sirius grins as he turns to get them. It’s wiped away a second later, though, when he turns back with his arms full of cloth to see Remus pushing the blankets awkwardly back and struggling to sit up. His chest is bare, and covered with marks, old scars and fresh ones, red and angry and healing already. He catches Sirius watching, and Sirius knows that he hasn’t had time to hide his expression, to cover it with anything, because Remus looks so exposed, absolutely naked under his gaze. “One of the advantages of being a werewolf,” Remus says, reaching for his robes, pulling them from Sirius’s numbed hands. “I heal pretty quickly.” He’s pulling the robes over his head, but his hands are shaking and Sirius can see it so he reaches to help, and Remus goes still. “It’s not something I… that I *mean* to do,” he finally says, once Sirius has his robes untangled and settled. Remus draws breath, then just shakes his head. “Think you can help me, Sirius? I’m still a little tired.”

 

“Up you get,” Sirius says, grasping Remus’s arm and helping the other boy to his feet, holding him steady when he feels Remus sway. “Better now?” he asks quietly, when a few seconds have gone by and Remus seems to have stabilized, still and steady next to Sirius now.

 

Remus glances up at him, and there’s a smile there, the real one. “Yeah,” he says. “Better now.”

-End


End file.
